Macaroni & Cheese with Gruyère and Thyme.

Before I get to the recipe, I wanted to point out that Amazon.com is selling a one-year subscription to ESPN the Magazine for $5 this week. I believe that this will also get you a year of Insider.

This is my reboot of this recipe; since I can’t abide cheddar cheese, I decided to make it with Gruyère, a milder cheese that’s also one of the best melting cheeses I’ve ever used.

Gruyère also happens to be the classic cheese at the heart of a sauce mornay, and mac and cheese is little more than cooked pasta covered in a sauce mornay with extra cheese and baked till semi-firm and golden brown on down. A sauce mornay is built on a sauce Béchamel*, one of the “mother sauces” and a somewhat secret ingredient in dishes like lasagna. A Béchamel starts with a flour-butter roux to which one adds milk (the traditional method is to steep an onion studded with a bay leaf and a few cloves in the milk first) and then simmers very gently until thickened. Add Gruyère and Parmiggiano-Reggiano to a Béchamel and you have a mornay.

*So one of the Food and Wine pavilions at Epcot this year had some dish served in a Béchamel sauce, and while I was walking by, I overheard a female tourist from somewhere in the northeast yell to her family that the dish was in a “buh-KAM-el” sauce. Granted, not everyone knows what a Béchamel is or how to say it, but if you saw that word and didn’t know it, how far down the list of potential pronunciations would “buh-KAM-el” be? Twentieth? Eightieth? A hundred and twelfth?

Since Gruyère is a French and Swiss-French cheese I went for one of the Frenchiest herbs I could think of, thyme, which pairs very well with Gruyère, and added parsley for some background music. Tarragon is probably the other herb I most associate with French cooking, but it’s too assertive for this dish in my opinion, and it’s more of a spring herb than a fall/winter comfort food flavor. Chives might work. I guess what I’m saying is that you can and should play with the herbs in this dish, just bearing in mind that the cheese flavor is on the soft side and you don’t want the finished product to taste like grass or licorice.

I’ve tried the dish with and without bread crumbs in the topping and I prefer it without, but it’s just a matter of taste. I also cut the mustard (!) in half to keep it in the background; it’s also a very French flavor but not everyone likes a mustardy smack in the mouth.

Whole Foods has organic whole wheat elbows under the 365 label for $1.99. I found a Swiss Gruyère at Trader Joes for $9.99 a pound; a roughly 10-11 ounce brick should give you enough for two batches.

1 1/2 cups elbow-shaped pasta (whole wheat works fine; you can try other shapes but it may alter the cooking time in the oven)
3 T unsalted butter
3 T all-purpose flour
1/2 tsp dry mustard
2 cups milk, anything but skim
1 1/2 tsp chopped fresh thyme
1 Tbsp chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley
1 1/2 cups (about 5 ounces) grated Gruyère cheese (nothing too fancy like “cave aged for 20 years” or anything)
1/2 cup + 2 Tbsp Parmiggiano-Reggiano
salt/pepper to tastes

1. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.
2. In a saucier (if you have one) or deep skillet or sauté pan, melt the butter and allow to foam but not brown. Add the flour and whisk constantly until a small paste forms. Add the mustard.
3. Gradually add the milk (you may choose to heat it first for faster cooking), still whisking constantly to create a smooth liquid.
4. Allow the mixture to simmer gently for 5-7 minutes until it’s visibly thickened and coats the back of a spoon. Add the herbs, then begin adding the Gruyère in small handfuls, whisking each addition into the sauce until it’s fully integrated. (If you add it all at once and whisk, you will end up with a big congealed clump in the center of your whisk – a hot mess if ever there was one.) Add 1/2 cup of the Parmiggiano-Reggiano and kill the heat. Season to taste with salt and pepper (white pepper works well here for aesthetic reasons).
5. Cook the pasta in several quarts of salted water and drain. You don’t want the pasta sitting and waiting for the sauce, so I usually put a small pot of water on high heat when I start the roux.
6. Grease a casserole dish and add the pasta. Pour the sauce over the pasta and toss to coat. Spread the remaining Parmiggiano-Reggiano over the top and bake until the top is golden, brown, and delicious and the center is slightly firm, 20-25 minutes, 30 if you want to be able to cut firm, stable wedges of the dish.

UPDATE: Reader Steve asked about adding leeks and/or bacon. I haven’t tried this variation, but here’s how I’d approach it:
* Chop the bacon finely and crisp in a skillet, rendering out as much fat as possible. Remove the bacon to a paper towel, then add to the casserole right before it goes in the oven.
* Pour out all but maybe 1 Tbsp of the fat from the skillet and use that to sweat the leeks. Slightly browning them is optional but would add more flavor – just don’t burn them. Add with the bacon to the mix right before baking.

Brown rice pilaf.

I don’t consider myself a healthy eater per se, since I tend to choose foods for taste first rather than nutritional benefits. One exception to that rule is rice – I’ve switched almost completely* from white rice to brown. White rice packs very little nutritional punch, while brown rice has fiber and nutrients that are removed with the outer husk, although for a whole grain it’s still on the light side nutritionally. (Barley, which can be roughly substituted in almost any rice recipe as long as you increase the liquid content, is significantly better for you, but in my opinion doesn’t play quite as nicely with other ingredients in a pilaf.)

*The exception to the exception here is in risotto, which must be made with white rice. Most risotto recipes call for arborio rice, although I’ve had excellent results with carnaroli, a slightly more expensive variety that I think produces a creamier finished product. If there is such a thing as brown arborio rice, I haven’t seen it, and I’d rather not know about it.

The rule of thumb for brown rice is that there is no rule of thumb, really. Rice is idiosyncratic, and each variety has to be treated differently. I work primarily with two varieties: long-grain American, and short-grain. (Short-grain is sometimes labelled “sushi rice,” although they’re not the same thing, and supposedly the Japanese hoard all the real sushi rice for themselves, just like they buy up the world’s best coffee and control the world banking market. Or maybe I’m confusing my conspiracy theories again.) Long-grain American brown rice (“LGA”) requires two parts liquid to one part rice; short-grain requires only about 1.5 parts liquid to 1 part rice. LGA has an earthier flavor; short-grain is “sweeter,” although it’s not higher in sugar. LGA is ideal for under-dishes – the rice you serve under gumbo or red beans. It also works well in soups, although I always cook the rice separately from the soup and add it at the end so that I have more control over how much liquid is in the finished product. For pilaf, however, I prefer short-grain.

Cooking brown rice on the stovetop* is simple, but brown rice pilaf is only a little more time-consuming, and if you know how to dice an onion, you have the requisite skills.

*We got a rice steamer as a wedding gift and gave it away when we moved to Pittsburgh two years later and were trying to reduce how much crap we were toting to a small apartment with a tiny basement storage space. Therefore, I’ve been steamer-less for over a decade and am not sure that I’ll switch. Besides, I like pilaf, and you can’t make that in a rice steamer.

Brown rice pilaf with shiitake mushrooms

1 Tbsp butter
1 Tbsp olive oil
1 small/medium onion, diced
1/2 poblano pepper, minced*
1-2 cloves garlic, minced
4-5 ounces shiitake mushrooms, washed, stems removed, sliced into 1/4″ strips
1 cup short-grain brown rice
1.5 cups low-sodium chicken broth
salt and pepper to taste
1 tsp minced fresh thyme
1/2 cup toasted pecans (optional)

*Poblanos aren’t that hot to begin with and the cooking process will eliminate much of what’s left, leaving you lots of flavor without a kick. If you want a moderate kick, feel free to substitute 3 habaneros, seeds included.

1. Heat the oil and butter together in a medium saucepan until the butter starts foaming. Add the onion and pepper and a pinch of salt and sweat until translucent, 5-7 minutes.
2. Add the mushrooms and raise the heat slightly, cooking until they have released their liquid and the bottom of the pan has only fat and not water.
3. Add the garlic and saute for one minute until the garlic is fragrant.
4. Add the rice and stir on and off for three minutes to toast the rice and coat it with a small layer of fat. If your pan is dry after the last step, add a teaspoon or two of additional fat and wait for it to heat up before adding the rice. This is a good time to pop the chicken broth in the microwave for two minutes so that it’s hot when you add it to the pan.
5. Add the chicken broth to the saucepan and stir once to make sure all ingredients are submerged in the liquid. Add salt and pepper to taste – 1/2 tsp of salt is a good start; stir it to dissolve and taste the liquid to adjust.
6. Bring the pot to a boil, reduce to a mild simmer, and cook covered on medium-low heat for 40-45 minutes until all the liquid is absorbed. You can also finish it for the same amount of time in a 350 degree oven.
7. Let the rice sit for ten minutes off heat before uncovering. Add the thyme and pecans if desired and stir to fluff.

Substitutions: You can make the same dish with LGA brown rice or pearled barley by increasing the liquid to two cups for LGA and two to two and a half cups for pearled barley.

The basic formula here is 2 Tbsp fat, sweat the onions, toast the rice, add liquid, boil-cover-simmer, let rest, fluff. It’s extensible; for example, you can also add more mushrooms of any variety, but should add at least a teaspoon of fat for every additional handful of fungus. You can add peas, dried fruit, different nuts (walnuts are also popular) or herbs, or other vegetables, but when to add them is the key – anything you add at the beginning is going to cook in liquid for 40-45 minute and could become soggy. Some vegetables, like bell peppers or asparagus, are better cooked separately in a sauté pan or skillet and added after the rice is cooked.

Browned and Braised Asian Carrots.

This is a pretty simple side dish, although it doesn’t scale well because of the sautéing required. You can use other liquids in place of the ginger beer, including chicken broth; you can also add about 1/3-1/2 tsp of butter at the end to turn the glaze into more of a sauce.

½ pound young, slender carrots, peeled and sliced into 3″ sticks
1 Tbsp butter
¼ tsp Chinese five spice powder
¼ tsp salt
½ tsp brown sugar
¼ cup ginger beer
chopped fresh parsley (optional)

1. Heat the butter in a sauté pan (with a lid) until the bubbling stops.
2. Add the carrots and let them brown on one side, approximately 3 minutes. Do not stir.
3. If you’re using a gas stove, turn down the flame. With the lid in one hand, add the salt, spice powder, brown sugar, and ginger beer, and clamp the lid down. Wait a few seconds for the initial violence to stop, then remove the lid, stir once, and put the lid down again. Raise the heat to medium-low and braise the carrots until barely tender, two to five minutes.
4. Remove the lid and allow any remaining liquid to cook away, taking care not to let the carrots burn in a dry pan. Serve with chopped fresh parsley if desired.

Kale with Garlic and Chorizo.

I bought some kale today at Whole Foods on a whim. I’ve never had kale before, but I keep reading how healthful it is, and I feel like I make the same three or four vegetables all the time anyway. Knowing the affinity that dark green, leafy vegetables have for garlic, cured pork, and lemon, I went rooting around in my freezer for some bacon … and found, instead, some chorizo I’d frozen probably two months ago and forgotten. Thus, this dish.

1 bunch kale (no idea how you measure this stuff)
2 cloves garlic, slivered
1 link chorizo or andouille sausage (cured or dried, but not fresh), diced finely
1 Tbsp olive oil
1 Tbsp water
pinch salt
lemon juice (optional)

1. Remove the kale leaves from their stems. (Best way: Fold the leaf in half at the stem, cut the stem away from the leaf.) Slice crosswise into ribbons. Rinse in a salad spinner or colander.
2. In a large lidded sauté pan, heat the olive oil until hot but not smoking. Add the garlic and sausage and sauté until the garlic is brown, the oil has turned slightly red or golden, and the sausage is fragrant.
3. Add as much kale as the pan will hold and toss gently in the oil. When this wilts, add more kale, continuing until all of the kale is added.
4. Add the 1 Tbsp water and reduce the heat to medium. Put the lid on the pan and cook for 15 to 18 minutes, until the kale has turned a deep green and is fully wilted. (The curly edges will still be curly and a little stiff.)
5. Season with salt and, if desired, a twist of lemon juice. Serve immediately.